No Matter How Long It Is Forgotten
by TriciaOakenshield
Summary: In the aftermath of Azanulbizar, Thrain blames himself for the death of his son and takes it out on Thorin. [Bookverse]


**No Matter How Long It Is Forgotten**

"Please…" he tried to apologize through the tears, "Please, I'm sorry, Father, don't…"

Thrain shook with grief and rage, "Don't? Don't what, Thorin!?" He grabbed his son's shoulder and shook it hard. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!"

Thorin gasped in pain, shuddering under the abuse. Tears streamed down his flushed cheeks, no longer held in check and spilling freely over the dirt and blood on his face. "Please… d-don't… It… wasn't… my…"

"It WAS your FAULT, Thorin! I commanded you to stand by him! I trusted you and you _FAILED_ him!"

"NO! No - _Please_… Father!"

"You failed him and he _PAID_ with his _LIFE!_"

"You d-don't know what y-you're saying…"

"I know perfectly well what I'm _saying_!" He shook the young Dwarf harder than ever, "You abandoned your brother and he _DIED_." Thrain let go of his son, letting him fall to the ground.

Thorin collapsed, unconscious, his father's last words still ringing in his ears-

_You abandoned your brother…and he DIED…he died…he died…he died….._

...

The tent was quiet.

Balin laid a hand on Thorin's forehead. A feverish moan escaped his lips and a trickle of sweat ran down his temple. He tried to shift his position, to ease the pain, but the deep orc-wound in his side protested, sending an intense shock of pain into his left ribcage. He inhaled sharply, causing another lance of agony to bite his left side.

Thorin's unnaturally bright eyes fluttered open and fixed on the older Dwarf. "Balin…" he rasped.

Balin gently caressed Thorin's cheek, "Shhh, shhh… It's alright… Go back to sleep."

Taking a shallow breath, the Dwarf-prince closed his eyes. "Where is he…" It was barely a whisper. "My father…"

Balin sighed, his countenance saddening. "We do not know. No-one has seen him since yesterday. Not since-" He stopped.

Thorin's breath caught slightly and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain it induced. He took a few slow, shaky breaths, then opened his eyes, and Balin could see clearly the unspilt tears they held. "It is my fault…" he panted, "I failed him…" Another drop of perspiration trickled down his temple.

How could a father leave his son like this? Losing a child in war was one thing - but abandoning the other, after a battle, worsening the wounds already sustained by the enemy - that was unthinkable; yet Thrain had done so.

Balin gently cradled Thorin's head in his lap, resulting in a small cough and a moan. "No… no, Thorin; you have failed no-one. Losing your brother and grandfather drove your father mad - he meant none of what he told you."

A tear rolled down the young Dwarf's cheek and Balin gently wiped it away. "But…" the prince wheezed, "He was right… I couldn't… save… my own… brother…" A small sob wracked his frame, the motion causing another stab of pain in his side. His voice trailed off to barely a whisper, "I… abandoned… him... and he died…"

With these words his eyes drifted shut… he was hardly breathing…

"Thorin!" Balin hugged his friend close. "Thorin, it's alright, everything will be alright."

Some of the dwarves outside the tent had begun to sing, and Balin listened, hoping Thorin could hear it too.

_The Dwarves of Yore made mighty spells,_

_While hammers fell like ringing bells_

_In places deep, where dark things sleep,_

_In hollow halls beneath the fells._

_For ancient king and elvish lord_

_There many a gleaming golden hoard_

_They shaped and wrought, and light they caught_

_To hide in gems on hilt of sword._

...

Suddenly the flap of the tent lifted and a figure stormed in. Balin looked up and nearly jumped, for there above him stood Thrain.

"My lord." Balin's tone was surprisingly even. He inclined his head slightly.

Thrain seemed not to notice; his every attention was now turned to Thorin, still lying in Balin's arms. The king quickly knelt beside his son, tears in his eyes. His large hand grasped that of his child, gently squeezing it.

Thorin stirred, then inhaled sharply, wincing as he let the air out of his lungs.

"Thorin."

The young dwarf groaned and opened his eyes a crack. "Father…"

A tear slid down Thráin's cheek. "I am sorry my son, I am so sorry…"

"But, you… you were… right…" he wheezed, his brow creased in pain.

"No, my son… I was not. I was horribly wrong." He smoothed Thorin's hair out of his face, tucking it gently behind his ear. "I blame myself, not you my child. You are a brave warrior… and a worthy leader."

Thorin inhaled, slowly, shakily. Thrain had never said anything like this to him before.

"I love you Father."

He was immediately enveloped in his father's warm embrace. Thrain held his only remaining son close. "And I you, Thorin."

Balin looked on in amazement, a smile on his face. Many horrible things had happened in the past twenty-four hours, but one thing could never be destroyed, no matter how long it was forgotten. Love.

**~THE END~**


End file.
